I know it’s not about individuals. I know it is about systems of exploitation that began long before Whitey arrived to stay in Australia (1788). I know it is about ecological imperialism, primitive accumulation, accumulation by dispossession and whatever other Marxist, post-Marxist terminology you want to throw about. Metabolic rift schmetabolic rift.

I know we are all complicit, even if you don’t want to call us all actively guilty.

I know it is too late to do anything serious about it. I read my Guy McPherson, my Dave Pollard. I know my polar vortexes (well, vortices) from my melting pavements in Adelaide.

But still….

Tiny-brain Abbott? Turdy Abbott? Goddammit. Species traitor. And I don’t mean that in the sense of “gender traitor” or “race traitor” or “class traitor”, of someone transcending their upbringing and social/economic interest to see a wider scope of, well, humanity.

I mean it would not surprise me one little bit if it turned out that Tony Abbott was a 12-foot lizard in a skin-suit, trying to speed the terra-forming of Earth along. It would explain a lot.

Goddammit.

There is still, at least theoretically, time for us to learn to roll with the punches. For a while. But instead we have this, this thing.

Ah! Bad for the species, huh? Lots of them about… my theory is that there’s some genetic disorder that relates the desire to control others with an inability to grok what it is that’s best for anyone but themselves and their buddies. Sod’s Law dictates that if there were such a flaw, it would be prevalent in career politicians.